


Of a Kind

by EuphoricSound



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EuphoricSound/pseuds/EuphoricSound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why he made a different call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of a Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sidhera for reading through it and making so many awesome suggestions.

Clint Barton had always been distinctly uncomfortable during one-on-one meetings with Nick Fury. He suspected that it had less to do with the fact that the other man intimidated him and more to do with the fact that these meetings always ended in the worst missions being deposited directly into his lap. 

“Agent Barton. Glad to see you. Hell of a job in Madrid last month. Please, have a seat,” said the director in a jovial tone. Jovial was never good. Whatever this mission was, Clint immediately upgraded it from The Worst to Hellish. But he sat down, doing his best to keep his face impassive.

 

“Thank you, sir,” he responded. 

“Agent Barton, I have an assignment for you, but I’d like some input from you first,” said Fury, his eye flickering from Barton’s face to the desk and then back. Reading micro expressions was an unfortunate talent of Clint’s, and that one break of eye contact from the director of SHIELD caused him to upgrade this assignment again, from Hellish to Shit Awful.

“Sir?” He asked, canting his head forward and crossing his arms over his chest.

”A year ago, you disobeyed orders during an assignment in Moscow. Do you remember that assignment?”

Clint Barton remembered every detail of that mission. He had been tasked with terminating a Russian Assassin, Natalia Romanova. One of the deadliest weapons ever produced by the Red Room. Even to him, her kill count had been impressive. 

“I do, sir.”

“Your order was to kill Miss Romanova. Can you tell me how long it took you to locate her?”

One day. He’d had information on a target of hers. He had first seen her exiting a cafe, arrestingly beautiful, every hair in place. He’d trailed her through the city, noted the moment she realized she was being followed, and wondered why she didn’t try to lose him. It had seemed as though she enjoyed leading him on a wild goose chase through the city. She had abruptly vanished about two hours later, and it had taken him two more days to locate her again. 

“Three days, sir.” He didn’t want to admit how exhilarating the challenge of that hunt had been. 

“Three days. And your orders were to kill her, Agent Barton.”

Clint paused, regarding the Director closely. “Pardon me sir, but this is all in my report.”

“I understand that, Agent Barton.” Fury’s voice was harder now. “I want to you to tell me in person why you disobeyed orders.”

His memory plunged him backwards. He saw her again as a girl in the snow at the edge of the city, red hair a flame against the grey and white of her surroundings. He’d been perched on a low roof, staring down the shaft of his arrow at her. But when she lifted her eyes to meet his, there was such fierceness in her green gaze that it froze his limbs in place. He looked into her eyes and saw a trapped animal, all wilderness and survival and beautiful chaos. She looked at him and there was a great sorrow there, but also defiance. She was challenging him, challenging death. Before that moment, he had never felt such a shocking, instantaneous connection with another person. She was his mark, and he was her end. But as he stared down at her he suddenly knew that the two of them, they were of a kind. Something inside of him had revolted against killing her. So he had replaced his arrow into the quiver, watched her turn tail and rush towards the shadows as he chose another arrow, knocked it, aimed, and waited until it had buried itself in her shoulder before pressing the button that would release the arrowhead’s sedative into her bloodstream. 

“With her skill sets and intel sir, I thought she would make a valuable asset to-“

Fury cut him off with an impatient wave of his hand. ”I know what’s in your report, Barton. I wanna know why exactly you didn’t kill her.”

He narrowed his eyes at the other man. “She deserved to live, sir. She deserved a chance. I thought she deserved a chance to prove that she was more than what they made her.” His tone was sharper than he had intended, and he was surprised to find how defensive he suddenly felt. He’d given her the choice to join him. She’d taken it. Neither of them had ever looked back from those decisions. 

The Director leaned back in his seat, resting his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers as he regarded Clint closely with his one good eye. “Well, Agent Barton, she has been given that chance. You are aware that Miss Romanova has spent the last year being deprogrammed. You have maintained contact with her during this time, so you also know that she has been cleared as a potential security risk. We want to field-test her. Nothing too big, not at first, but we certainly aren’t going to send her out alone. She’ll need to be watched. I am assigning Agent Coulson to be her handler, with you as her partner.”

Clint sat very still. It was true; he had stayed in contact with her. He’d felt responsible for her, defensive of her, and drawn to her all at once. They had become…maybe not friends, not yet, but certainly allies.

 

“That’s…my assignment, sir? You’re assigning me a partner?”

“Yes,” he replied grimly. “I know you usually work alone, but-“

“Fine, that’s-it’s fine sir,” he said, probably too quickly. 

Fury raised his eyebrow. “And she’s taken a new name. She’ll be known as Natasha Romanov from now on.”

Natasha. He allowed himself a smile. “Yes, sir.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll work well together, Barton.”

“I do too, sir.”


End file.
